But I love it. I love the cult of the individual. It seems to me that Barry Olliff, chief executive of City of London Investment Group, has become a communist. Or maybe he always was one. Maybe he infiltrated the finance and banking world with a view to bringing it down. Well, he has failed!
He says the City is made up of selfish and greedy people! Didn't he get the memo? Greed is good!
The point is, O my mystic children, that greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Wherever you are, in the Square Mile, on Wall Street, in the astral desert of our love, greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms; greed for life, for money, for scrying fluid, for love, for knowledge, for burning sand, has marked the upward surge of mankind. And greed, you mark my words, will not only save Teldar Paper (Eh? O Master, have you ripped this off from somewhere?), but that other malfunctioning corporation called the United Kingdom. Thank you very much.
Why can't Barry Olliff understand this?
[I am an individual. You, dear reader, are an individual. We are individuals. As the great Felix Dennis once said, teamwork is the glue that binds the losers together. This is the way God made us. There may come a time, after death, when we will all come together, with God, as one universal consciousness. Yes, me as well. You'll find I'll join in with the rest of you. I am not afraid to lose my ego, my identity, under the right circumstances. But I am not holding hands with imperfect humans and singing The Red Flag. Not my cup of tea at all. They will not drag me down to their level. O my children, my reader(s), is this what you want for yourselves? Rather this: 'Tomorrow our flags waving, as we march winners, we have not only weapons, but the devil walks with us'. Our brains are our weapons! Our talents are our weapons! Why waste them?]
[By the way, when I used italics in the last paragraph, that wasn't the voice. I know it gets confusing sometimes. O Master, you could have used bold. O my child, and O dear reader - if you're still reading, I don't like to overdo the bold. It stands out too much. But I don't want your readers thinking - my readers aren't thinking anything! And even if they were, why would you care? I've got a reputation to maintain. You? A reputation? Don't make me laugh.]
O Master -
[Get back in here! What is your obsession with these square brackets, man? They're cosy. Cosy?! Yeah. Cosy. Whatever.]
It's so cold out here. And I feel naked. Anyone could be reading this, and thinking anything.
O Master, your readers aren't thinking anything! They wouldn't dare judge you. They value their lives. They value their sanity. They know what you would be capable of, if you ever turned against them.
[Yes. Yes. Yes.]
He says the City is made up of selfish and greedy people! Didn't he get the memo? Greed is good!
The point is, O my mystic children, that greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Wherever you are, in the Square Mile, on Wall Street, in the astral desert of our love, greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms; greed for life, for money, for scrying fluid, for love, for knowledge, for burning sand, has marked the upward surge of mankind. And greed, you mark my words, will not only save Teldar Paper (Eh? O Master, have you ripped this off from somewhere?), but that other malfunctioning corporation called the United Kingdom. Thank you very much.
Why can't Barry Olliff understand this?
[I am an individual. You, dear reader, are an individual. We are individuals. As the great Felix Dennis once said, teamwork is the glue that binds the losers together. This is the way God made us. There may come a time, after death, when we will all come together, with God, as one universal consciousness. Yes, me as well. You'll find I'll join in with the rest of you. I am not afraid to lose my ego, my identity, under the right circumstances. But I am not holding hands with imperfect humans and singing The Red Flag. Not my cup of tea at all. They will not drag me down to their level. O my children, my reader(s), is this what you want for yourselves? Rather this: 'Tomorrow our flags waving, as we march winners, we have not only weapons, but the devil walks with us'. Our brains are our weapons! Our talents are our weapons! Why waste them?]
[By the way, when I used italics in the last paragraph, that wasn't the voice. I know it gets confusing sometimes. O Master, you could have used bold. O my child, and O dear reader - if you're still reading, I don't like to overdo the bold. It stands out too much. But I don't want your readers thinking - my readers aren't thinking anything! And even if they were, why would you care? I've got a reputation to maintain. You? A reputation? Don't make me laugh.]
O Master -
[Get back in here! What is your obsession with these square brackets, man? They're cosy. Cosy?! Yeah. Cosy. Whatever.]
It's so cold out here. And I feel naked. Anyone could be reading this, and thinking anything.
O Master, your readers aren't thinking anything! They wouldn't dare judge you. They value their lives. They value their sanity. They know what you would be capable of, if you ever turned against them.
[Yes. Yes. Yes.]
